


Amends

by Trotzkopf



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Character Death Mentioned, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, M/M, Not talking about feelings, The Trousers of Time, Tragic Romance, because they don't have any 'cause not, bracae temporis, might make you cry, sex to save their lives trope, sixty nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 14:33:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13503546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trotzkopf/pseuds/Trotzkopf
Summary: Sam Vimes decided to return to his trouser leg of time in the hopes he would leave the dystopian nightmare world where he had to kill an assassin called Havelock Vetinari behind. However, L-space is funny - not haha funny, but strange, and cruel, and unpredictable - and something always finds a way. All actions have consequences and the commander and the Patrician have to find a way to deal with them or risk everything.With gracious permission of the author,Donna Immaculata, I give you the unofficial continuation ofBracae Temporis.





	Amends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Donna_Immaculata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donna_Immaculata/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bracae Temporis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743681) by [Donna_Immaculata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donna_Immaculata/pseuds/Donna_Immaculata). 



> I'm indebted to Donna Immaculata who graciously permitted me to write fanfiction of her fanfiction. As you know, she is incredible, and I'm humbled that I even have permission to publish this.

There was a sensation like plunging into your own grave when he jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. In the dream the rope had burned, marked him, strangled him. Against all odds, it had snapped. It was the second drop that had woken him up from the nightmare. His neck _hurt_.

Vetinari threw back the covers and sat on the side of the bed. He blamed his shaking hands on the dizziness from having gotten up too fast when he struck a match and lit the candle on his bedside table. He lifted the holder and got up on unsteady feet.

A tall man in a nightshirt stumbled toward him like a ghost as he approached the full length mirror next to the cupboard. He cursed under his breath when his hand trembled as he reached for the collar and tugged it down.

There was a gasp. The candle flickered and went out before it hit the carpet with a quiet thud.

*~*

“Did he say why?” Commander Vimes asked as Drumknott ushered him through the corridors to the Patrician’s private quarters.

“No, commander, but he made it clear it was urgent and you were to come alone.”

The secretary knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Vetinari called. Vimes and Drumknott exchanged one last glance before the commander tried the handle and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

Vetinari was standing by the window overviewing the garden, hands clasped behind his back. Silence stretched between them until Sam feared the Patrician might have forgotten he was in the room. He cleared his throat.

“I know you’re here, commander, I’m just not sure how to broach the subject.” Vetinari’s voice sounded hoarse, strained. The timbre stirred something in the back of Sam’s memory, but he pushed it away to focus.

This didn’t bode well. He was quite certain the man in front of him was the Patrician, not an imposter or his usual doppelgänger, Charlie. And yet, something about him seemed strange, different. “Are you ill?”

Vetinari barked a short, humourless laugh. “Come and see, and then you tell me.”

Vimes walked over to the window where the Patrician was unbuttoning the high collar of his robe. He wore a loose, white shirt underneath. Their eyes met briefly and then Vetinari tugged on the fabric, revealing the angry, purple bruises around his neck.

Sam gasped. As if in trance, he reached out only to snatch his hand back as if it had been burned before he actually touched anything.

Vetinari nodded. He let go of the collar but neglected to fasten his buttons again. “It's as I thought, you know what this means.”

Vimes took a few steps backward, shaking his head. “That’s…Please tell me you tried to hang yourself last night.”

“You know I didn’t.”

Vimes was still shaking his head in denial. _‘Impossible!’_

“In the past few weeks, every time you’ve entered the room, I remembered certain events that - strange as it may sound - never happened, at least not to me. And yet, they seem to be _my_ memories. Überwald. Genua. Ankh-Morpork, only not the way we know it today. It would appear I have another life in my head where I’m not Patrician but an assassin, and last night bits of it became real enough to do _this_ ,” he pointed at his abused neck. “I want to know why, commander.”

Vimes’ face went wooden. “What makes you think I know anything?”

It happened so fast, even with the commander’s history of street gang scuffles and years of chasing after criminals, he had no chance. One minute he was standing in front of the Patrician and in the next he was looking up at him from the floor where he was lying on his back, winded.

“Please don’t play games with me, Vimes. I haven’t slept much and I’m in considerable discomfort. Besides, it’s beneath you. Whatever is happening, is connected to you, I’m sure of it.”

Sam closed his eyes and let himself fall back onto the soft carpet. He cursed under his breath.

“I died,” Vimes explained, hand over his eyes. “I died on the Glorious 25th May. Carcer got me - the younger me, that is. Everything went black. It felt like something was picking me up and hurling me through….I don’t know…time, I suppose. It spat me back out in the here and now - only not _this_ here and now.”

Vetinari walked past him and sat on his bed. “Like a parallel reality where Sam Vimes hadn’t existed for 30 years until you appeared?”

The commander took his hand from his face and glanced at the other man.

“Yes. Something like that,” he confirmed, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I woke up at UU. They didn’t know what to make of me and threw me into the dungeon. Three guesses who my cellmate was and the first two don’t count.”

There was a faraway look in Vetinari’s eyes when he said, “I was hanged the next morning, and survived.” He touched his neck. “I remember - all of it.”

Vimes tried to swallow but his mouth had run dry. _‘Damn, damn, bloody damn,’_ he thought. Everything he had done. Everything he had sacrificed to ensure the other reality - that dystopian nightmare - would never exist in the first place, and it had bloody sneaked in anyway. If it was true and this Vetinari knew everything…

He got up and leaned his forehead against the cool windowpane, staring at the trees in the garden. It was easier than having to look at the evidence that despite his best efforts the other trouser leg of time was now firmly tangled with his reality.

“I killed him.”

“Yes,” Vetinari rasped. “He asked you to.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“You think you made the wrong decision?”

“No, I'm- That doesn't- Look, there was only one way back to this future and I took it. I took it! I had to.”

“I think I know what’s causing this,” Vetinari replied, making Vimes turn around and stare at him.

“How can you sit there and be so bloody calm after what I just said?”

Vetinari shrugged. “What would change if I got upset?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe we would finally have proof you’re human after all?”

The Patrician sighed. “If I have to be an irrational, emotional mess to prove my humanity, I think I’ll rather stick with cold-hearted tyrant, thank you very much.”

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes. “Of course, sir. My mistake.”

Ignoring the sarcasm, Havelock said, “All we need to do now is figure out how to fix your guilty conscience.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Your guilt is causing this,” the Patrician pointed to his neck.

Sam’s eyes went wide. “You can’t know that! It’s bloody magic, that’s what. Look, I’m really sorry you’re somehow affected by what happened in another reality, but I don’t see how this is my fault.”

“It’s the only logical explanation.” Vetinari got up. “I know he told you he could remember me - my life, that is - but only when he was close to you. Isn’t that how you started sleeping together in the first place?”

Vimes would have considered it a personal favour if the universe would open up another time portal and swallow him right now. Predictably, nothing happened, and the Patrician just kept staring at him with his cold, blue eyes as if he could pluck the answer straight out of his brain. Sam could feel the blush rising from the neck upwards.

’ _Bugger! Bugger! And fucking damn!_ ’ He nodded once.

As if finding out the commander of the Watch had slept with another version of yourself was something that happened to him on a daily basis, Vetinari calmly said, “Proximity clearly plays a role. But unless we never share the same room again, which, I hope you agree, would be highly inconvenient, there is no way we can avoid this effect.”

“If that were true, why isn’t it affecting me?”

“Because it’s just a memory for you. You were there. You lived it. Tell me, when you look at me, do you see him?”

Suddenly, Sam found the tips of his boots highly intriguing.

“Commander.”

He should give them a good polish, they were getting rather-

“Sam.”

Vimes’ head snapped up. Not even the other Vetinari had ever used his first name and they had been a good deal better acquainted.

“Don’t call me that!” Vimes bristled.

“Answer the question.”

“Of course, you do,” Sam pressed out between gritted teeth. “I mean, your hair is shorter. Your voice lacks the accent. And you walk with a slight limp, but everything else is the same. Down to your insufferable personality.”

“Yes, your dislike for me is well known. It didn’t stop you from sleeping with me, I beg your pardon, _him_.”

The muscles in Vimes’ jaw flexed, hands balled into fists. “So what? He was just another body. It meant nothing.”

“But you regret killing him?”

The line of Sam’s mouth quivered for a moment before he growled, “No, because it was the only way home.”

*~*

People tried to lie to him all the time. It came with the job. Either you learned how to spot it, or you ended up unemployed, or worse, in a very short period of time. Which was why Vetinari didn’t believe Vimes at all, but replied, “Be that as it may, but you are feeling guilty for killing him because what you fear most is being a cold-blooded murderer.”

Their eyes met. The commander’s were full of pain and guilt and something else which reminded Vetinari, it had been Vimes who had made the first move in the other reality. Was that something a man did just because he craved a bit of cold comfort? A part of him wanted to ask whether, indeed, any body would have done, but he suspected this would only lead to more lies at this point.

 _‘I know what you taste like.’_ The sudden thought intruding on his speculations. Vetinari cursed inside his own head. This was highly inappropriate, but he didn't seem to be able to stop this from happening. Not for the first time, he was grateful for his robe because this was another common occurrence during these past weeks. A few minutes after Vimes entered a room, Havelock’s cock stood to attention.

At first he had blamed it on his ever growing attraction to the man which had increased tenfold since he had received confirmation that Sam Vimes and John Keel were one and the same person. A much younger Havelock had been in awe of Keel, and when realisation struck, Keel had in fact been Sam Vimes who had travelled through time, his respect and admiration for the commander had shifted into new emotional territory.

However, infatuation was easily ignored, or so he had thought. He couldn't afford to get distracted. Long ago, he had chosen to serve the city, and Havelock Vetinari took his commitments seriously. There was no room for personal desires which had never presented a serious challenge until a few weeks ago when Vimes’ return from his magical travels sent a chain reaction into motion which led to Vetinari considering he was going mad, especially when idle erotic fantasies transformed into something a lot more organic and vivid, like memories.

Still, he had not been truly alarmed until he had woken up with rope burns around his neck. Clearly, something else was afoot. He had made a few enquiries.  

By the time he had called for a meeting with the commander, it was obvious  he was the only person who could give him real answers and help him fix this before he ended up dead.

Vimes was still glaring at him, “If you have his memories, you know how utterly rotten his Ankh-Morpork was. Snapcase was still Patrician. The mob had fed Sybil to the dragon. The watch was a joke. Bloody Carcer was still alive - if not for long,” he grinned nastily. “The best way to ensure his reality never happened was to-”

Vetinari held up his hand. “Yes, I understand, commander. But apparently, no matter how good your intentions were, and although he consented - no, not only that - he suggested it, you can’t shake the feeling you killed your lo-“

“Shut up!” Vimes yelled. “It was nothing. He was nothing. Nothing!“ Sam buried his face in his hands. A strangled cry escaped his throat before he punched the wall next to the window. Plaster rained on the floor.

“Gods, I hate you so much,” Sam muttered, head bowed, shoulders shaking.

It was a good thing Vetinari hardly ever took anything said about him personally, or otherwise, Vimes would be in hot water about now. As it were, Vetinari merely decided, pointing out this was a lot of anger over someone who was “nothing” would be counterproductive. Besides, he now had reason to suspect Vimes knew this all too well, which was why they were in this mess in the first place.

The mattress made a soft sound when Vetinari got up. Sam turned to face him, his eyes shifting to the open collar, the bruises just visible when you knew where to look.

The commander’s chin sagged as realisation washed over him. “If the memories can manifest...I’m going to kill you again.”

“If we don’t fix this, yes, that’s a possibility,” Vetinari confirmed. “Although I’m uncertain what the odds are.”

Vimes stared at the abused skin. “Too damn high, that’s what. We’d better solve this quickly.”

 _‘Yes, you clearly hate my guts and the other me was nothing to you. Incidentally, Mister Dibbler has recently started a flourishing enterprise and is - what is the vernacular here - raking it in.’_ Vetinari thought, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.  

Out loud he said, “Preferably. I know the other me saw his assisted suicide as a way to make amends for failing to protect Ankh-Morpork from a madman. I, however, don’t wish to die a poetic death at the hands of my lover, especially since it would serve no purpose and render the other me’s death somewhat pointless.”  

“And what do you propose we do?”

“I could forgive you for killing me.”

Vimes frowned. “How are you going to do that?”

Vetinari pursed his lips. “Oh, I could say, I forgive you. How did that feel?”

“What?”

“I said-”

Vimes snarled, “That’s not how forgiving works. We should find that bald, little monk. What was his name again? - Sweeper, he’ll know what’s going on.”

“I already tried. They - the history monks, that is - are gone, and clearly don’t want to be found.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I can’t find them, and I have my ways.”

Vimes cursed under his breath while Havelock said, “I also made some discrete enquiries at the university. But it all boiled down to: “L-space, it’s funny that way.” And something about magic overlapping with-”

“Typical bloody wizards! That's not telling us anything!”

“As I was about to say,” Vetinari continued, slightly peeved, “I’ve been given to understand some of the magic that caused you to travel through time is clinging to you like an echo. You are somehow projecting the memories onto me and it manifests because of the magical residue.”

“Did anyone mention quantum?” Vimes asked wearily.

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Ah. That. It would explain why the other you had some of your memories. I was practically still sizzling with magic when we met. But shouldn’t that also mean I can stop this _projecting -_ if that’s what’s really happening? Magic wears off, doesn’t it?”

“I asked that too.”

“And?”

“You won’t like the answer.”

“Try me.”

“L-space, it’s funny that way.”

Vimes cursed again. “In other words, they don’t have a bloody clue.”

“But I believe there is evidence we can stop this ourselves,” Vetinari took a step closer. Sam had to tilt his head slightly to maintain eye contact.

“How?”

“You tell me, commander.” Havelock’s heart started to thud in his chest. Being so close to Vimes was doing all sort of things to his self-control, especially since he now had confirmation his erotic fantasies were, indeed, memories.

“I don’t understand.”

“We need to alleviate your guilty - yes, commander, please don’t give me that look, you know it’s true. As I was saying, we need to alleviate your guilty conscience. Tell me what will make you feel better about killing me.”

Sam’s eyes went wide. “It wasn’t you.”

“Not exactly, but not exactly _not_ me either.” Especially not when he remembered how it felt to have the body in front him in his arms. How it felt to move against him. _‘How your mouth feels on my cock.’_

Unaware of Vetinari’s inner battle, Vimes’ voice sounded hollow when he replied, “Nothing. Except maybe travelling back in time and stopping me from killing you - the other you.”

“More magic? You really think that will solve anything?”

“Of course not,” Vimes snarled. “Bloody magic only makes things worse.” He reached for the collar of the Patrician’s robe and tugged it down, his knuckles brushing against warm skin. Their eyes locked.

“One night,” Sam suddenly said.

Vetinari blinked. “Pardon?” He stared at Vimes, face impassive, while his heart tried to hammer itself through his ribcage. He must have heard that wrong.

Sam licked his lips. “Do with me as you please for one night and we call it even.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. Why-” Havelock began but Sam closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together. It felt clumsy, dispassionate. Vimes’ body was shaking. He obviously didn’t want to do this.

 _‘No, not like this.’_ Vetinari reached for the commander’s shoulders and pushed him away.

“I can only see this adding to your compunction. How is this going to fix anything?”

“You have his memories. Tell me what he would have said, had I made him that offer.”

_‘Given your history, he would already be pushing you toward the bed, saying something like, “Why wait and waste time in which I could be dying at any minute? I trust this isn't just a valiant sacrifice on your part. I'd hate to think you're doing this against your will.” While his fingers would already be busy undoing buckles and buttons. The commander’s reply would be sarcastic but could be condensed to, “Don't worry, when push comes to shove, I do want you to live - but not that much.” Then, he’d roll his eyes and add, “I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't willing.”’_

Vetinari’s nostrils flared. He could see the tiny quirk at the corner of Vimes’ mouth because Vimes was observant. It was one of his best qualities of which he had many, even if the man refused to believe he was capable of having them.

“Yes, that's what I thought,” the commander whispered.

“Tell me why you think this will work.”

“Because it’s like you said, you’re not exactly not him. And I feel I owe him more than a quick death in a back alley. If I give myself to him, that is, to you willingly, it might feel like I’m making up for it. I’m not sure it will ever be enough, but it’s worth a try. It’s that, or you have to kill me.”

“That is not an option, and you know it,” Vetinari growled.

“Then, I'm sorry, your lordship, but you'll have to bed me. It's our best shot at saving our lives.”

 _‘Now there is a sentence I never thought I’d hear out of your mouth. I shouldn’t want this,’_ Vetinari thought while his body had quite different ideas about what it wanted him to do. He made a show of tilting his head as if he hadn’t made up his mind already and had to seriously consider the offer.

“If you’re quite sure this is the only way, commander. At least from what I remember, the other me would most certainly not have objected, so why should I? It's an elegant, if unconventional solution, provided you’re certain you want to do this.”

There was an almost imperceptible nod. He noticed Sam’s gaze shifting to the bruises again.

“Your concern is touching,” Vetinari said and immediately had to suppress a chuckle when Vimes’ eyes narrowed, the line of his mouth twisting into a snarl.

The commander had a reputation for being honest, incorruptible and quite often angry. However, people didn't become alcoholics if their emotional spectrum only oscillated between angry and grudgingly content.

In the other reality, Vimes had shared his bed with an incredible amount of passion and tenderness to the point where he had confessed he might not be able to kill him. Sam Vimes cared. He cared deeply once you got past the paranoia and anger, and it clearly vexed him, at least when the person in question turned out to be him - the Patrician.

Vetinari could see the words, “ _It's my job,_ ” were already lining up in defence, but what actually came out of Vimes’ mouth genuinely surprised Havelock.

“I can't see you dead again and know it was me. Once was one time too many.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Sam closed the distance between them again, his tongue pushing past Havelock’s lips. There was nothing clumsy or dispassionate about this kiss. Vimes’ hands were fisting his robes, not quite pulling but also not quite pushing him away.

“We need to do this soon,” Vimes murmured against his lips.

“The house in that other reality. It’s real. It’s mine. Meet me there tomorrow at midnight.”

Vimes nodded in response. “Tomorrow at midnight.”

They exchanged one last look before the commander turned on his heel and left the room without another backward glance.

*~*

The backdoor had been left unlocked. Vimes stepped into the house. It didn’t quite smell the same and something about that made him sad. He closed the door and pushed the bolts into place.

 _‘What am I doing?’_ he thought.

“Plain clothes?”

The voice out of the dark would have startled a lesser man, but Vimes wasn’t surprised. He turned around and looked at the Patrician who seemed to melt out of the shadows.

“Easier to blend in, but you know all about that, don’t you?”

Vetinari wore a loose, dark grey shirt and matching trousers. Ignoring the question, the Patrician replied, “There is a bathroom through that door. Take a bath. There should be enough hot water left.”

“I already took a bath this morning.”

Vetinari stepped closer. “Take another one. You know what’s going to happen here tonight, I hope.”

He knew. Of course he knew. But hearing it made his stomach drop just the same. “We have never- I mean, in that other reality, we didn’t-“

“I know,” Havelock leaned in, his warm breath ghosting along Sam’s jaw. “I also remember you saying yesterday, you’re giving yourself to me because you think this is the only way to fix our problem. The implication being, you’re giving _him_ what he wanted. Tell me what do you think that is?”

Sam growled through gritted teeth, his body reacting to their proximity. Maybe Vetinari was kidding himself they were doing this to save his life - and, in a way, Sam’s as well - but Vimes knew that wasn't the whole story.

The truth was, these past weeks had been hard on him. The joy over the birth of his son had quickly been replaced by the nagging guilt for having killed another person in cold blood, and not any other person either. He had killed his lover - _yes, damnit, they had been lovers_ \- as much as he tried to deny it, he knew there had been more between them than a bit of cold comfort. It didn’t exactly help to see the man walking around every day - alive, but indifferent to their shared history.

Sam only hoped this plan would work or else he would go mad. Physical attraction aside - _and bloody hell, yes, he was attracted to Vetinari_ \- he highly doubted the Patrician would be willing to pick up where they had left off in the other reality - not that Sam wanted to, or that it was an option to begin with. He was married and had a son. There was no way they could- and he didn’t want to anyway. Besides, it wasn’t as if he and the other Vetinari had ever talked about…attachment _._ There hadn’t been any. Of course not. But _something_ had been there, and it had been strong enough to follow Sam into this reality and was messing up his life.

“Fine,” Vimes whispered, staring at Havelock’s lips.

“Good,” Vetinari kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m not going to do anything you truly don’t want me to. If you need me to stop say-“

“Stop. I’ll say stop,” Sam panted and pushed past the other man. He went into the bathroom and banged the door shut with a bit more vehemence than strictly necessary. He stripped and filled the tub. Sam liked, and hated that he liked, how his body was tingling with anticipation. He stubbornly resisted the urge to wank because that would be cheating somehow.

After he was done, he contemplated putting his clothes back on, but what was the point? He bunched them up and tugged them under his arm.

A weird sense of deja vue gripped him as he entered the bedroom. It was dark except for the soft light from a single candle on the dresser. The Patrician stood by the window. If anyone were to look up from the street, they wouldn’t see him, yet he observed everything.

It occurred to Sam this was the story of Vetinari’s life. He was the one behind the scenes pulling the strings but never really a part of it all. Always on the outside looking in. Always alone. And the other one had said these were the fun memories? ‘ _Good grief!’_

Sam shook his head. He reminded himself that the man over there wasn’t his lover, it was _a_ Havelock Vetinari. The one he knew as the Patrician. The man who had a knack for making him so angry, there were permanent dents in the wall outside the Oblong Office. A manipulative bastard who somehow always knew what Sam not necessarily wanted, but needed, and he gave it to him - every time. Because it all managed to contribute to keeping the city going.

If Sam had learned anything in the other trouser leg of time, it was he and Vetinari were both essential for making sure this reality happened - the one where people thrived and could look forward to a future because there was a future to be had.

Sam tried not to believe in gods or fate. But he had a nagging suspicion his and Vetinari’s karma were intertwined whether he believed in it or not, and when the connection was severed, it made everyone miserable.

Maybe this was it? He had deliberately severed the link between them, and now the universe was desperate to repair it by whatever means necessary.

 _‘Well, you got it all wrong,’_ Vimes thought at the universe at large. _‘Nothing was really damaged. Look, he’s standing right there. He’s fine - and waiting to fuck me - thanks to you, you bastard!’_ His cock twitched.

Vimes remembered thinking of the Havelock from the nightmare world as the _other_ Vetinari had helped him overcome his initial reluctance to have sex with him. Although he had freaked out even while they were jerking each other off, he had gone along with it because the only thing that seemed real any more was feeling Vetinari’s touch. There was no guilt because he wasn't cheating on anyone. You can’t cheat on the dead who had never known you in the first place.

All he had to do back then was to give in to the urge to soothe his aching body and soul. He remembered liking it to falling off the wagon, leaving the path of the straight and narrow, and plunging headfirst back into bad habits like avoiding having to deal with your problems, and creating a whole new set of them in the process. Actually, it was just one new problem: it was tall, skinny and had cold, blue eyes.

He stepped into the room and dropped his clothes onto a chair. There was no need to lock the door but he did it anyway. This was madness, utter madness. Sam had done what he had done to leave all this behind him in a world that should never have existed. Yet here he was, naked in Vetinari’s bedroom again. It even had the same bed - too narrow for two, but they had always made due.

Without any fanfare, Havelock turned around and methodically took his clothes off, dropping them on the floor. A small smile tugged on the corners of Sam’s mouth when the stiletto and two small throwing knives joined the pile. Maybe they weren’t so different after all, even if the other Vetinari had three times the weaponry about his person at all times.

“How do you want to do this?” Sam asked, his cock swelling as his eyes roamed over the naked body in front of him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn it was the same man.

There were slight differences, of course. Scars, for instance. The Gonne shot had healed ugly, gnarling the skin on Vetinari’s thigh. Sometimes Sam wondered how much damage it had really done. The Patrician walked with a cane ever since, but was this a necessity or just another one of his deceptions? For some reason, it made Sam wonder how much of what was happening between them now was magic, and how much was what either of them wanted? The thought was mildly disturbing.

When Havelock stretched out his hand, Sam took it and let himself be pulled into an embrace. He bit his lower lip to suppress a gasp when skin touched skin. Vetinari dipped his head for a kiss.

“Wait-” Sam put his hand on Havelock’s chest. “Are you- I have to know you’re okay with this. I know you have his memories but-“

Vimes felt the chuckle more than he could hear it. “You’re wondering whether you’re using me as a prop to have one last tryst with your dead lover?”

“Ye gods, it sounds awful when you put it like that.”

“And it would be, if it were true. But, fear not, commander. While I would have never propositioned you, I’m willing to admit I find you quite attractive all by myself. I can think of far worse ways to save my life than sleeping with you.”

Teeth flashed in the dark as Vetinari smiled before he caught Sam’s mouth in a kiss, his tongue brushing along the seam of his lips.

It was a relief and at the same time oddly flattering and arousing to know Vetinari wanted him in this reality as well. ’ _Damn, was this swooning? There would be no swooning. How utterly ridiculous. Swooning was bad.’_

Not that the point needed any more emphasis, but Vetinari reached for Sam’s hand all the same and pulled it toward his groin. A clever tongue slipped into his mouth when Vimes gasped. He retaliated by wrapping his fingers around Vetinari’s hard length, giving it a slight squeeze. Familiar heat spread through Sam’s body when Havelock groaned into the kiss.

“Bed,” they said at the same time which made them chuckle. They crashed onto the mattress with Vimes on top. Mindful of the abused skin, Sam briefly buried his face in Havelock’s neck, inhaling deeply, the familiar scent oddly comforting.

“I’ve missed this,” the words left his mouth before he could bite them back. What made it worse was, they were true.

Thankfully, he had no time to feel embarrassed about them because Vetinari replied, “Good. Then, we made the right call,” and kissed him again.

 _‘Maybe this will work after all,’_ Sam thought, his eyes drawn to the still angry looking bruises. He dipped his head and briefly sucked on the skin just underneath Havelock’s ear, making him squirm. Vimes smiled against Vetinari’s racing pulse. This was another thing he had missed. This challenge of making the man beneath him lose control. He kissed his way down to his chest, making him arch into his mouth when he gently bit down on a nipple, working the nub into a hard pebble. Long fingers threaded into his hair, urging him to go lower. Vimes grinned against Havelock’s stomach.

“In a hurry, your lordship?”

“Ouch,” he sniggered despite the discomfort as Vetinari tightened the grip on his hair and pulled him until their faces were level. Damn, Vetinari’s pupils were so dilated, his eyes looked black.

“Turn around,” Havelock growled into his ear.

“What? Like-“

“Tsk.”

Before he could finish asking, Vetinari had flipped him over and reversed their positions. He moved them about until Sam was suddenly face to face with a hard cock pointing at his nose.

“Wha-“ the rest of the question was drowned in a throaty moan when his cock was suddenly surrounded by warm, wet heat. His hips tried to buck into it, only to be pinned down by a strong arm. Vetinari wasn’t moving, his lips just firmly clamped around the base of Sam’s cock, teasing, maybe punishing, who knew with him.

 _‘Damn, I’ve missed this too,’_ Vimes thought. One could argue a mouth was like any other, but there was something about it being Vetinari’s mouth that made it so much better. He could feel his cock twitching against Havelock’s tongue.

Vetinari’s dick brushed the side of his face. Sam vaguely wondered whether the stubble felt good or irritating against the soft skin, but forgot about it instantly when Havelock moved his hips back and deliberately brushed the tip of his cock over his lips, leaving a salty trail of pre-cum in its wake. Sam licked it off. It still tasted as good as he remembered. He wrapped his hand around the base of Vetinari’s dick and sucked him in as far as it would go, causing another burst of salt rolling over his tongue.

A hand snaked between his legs, caressing his balls before it dipped lower, fingers brushing over puckered skin. Despite the fact that his dick was in another man’s mouth, he could feel his body tensing up as he remembered what had happened the last time they had done something like this.

Vetinari’s finger felt slick with something as it slowly pushed against the tight ring. Sam’s body instinctively tried to fight it. The finger withdrew, the heat around his dick vanished. Havelock slipped out of his mouth as he sat up and moved until he hovered above him on all fours. He lowered his head.

“Trust me,” Havelock whispered, brushing his nose against Sam’s.

“I’m trying. It’s just not what usually happens _down there_ ,” mumbled Vimes.

“I promise, it will feel good.”

“How do you know?” Sam asked, and irrationally, felt heat shooting into his cheeks when Havelock merely raised an eyebrow in response, a small smirk twisting the corner of his lips.

“I don’t know if I can,” Sam admitted, squeezing his eyes shut.

He snapped them open when he felt Havelock sink on top of him, covering him like a skinny, bony blanket. Their cocks squished between their stomachs. Vetinari kissed him. Sam closed his eyes, his fingers sliding into dark hair, lips parting as he relaxed into the kiss.

“Let me try something else,” Havelock murmured against his cheek. “Turn around.” Sam hesitated for a moment before he flipped onto his stomach.

“Wait- Here.” Vetinari shoved a pillow under Sam’s hips. It reminded him of the time in the other reality when he had permitted Vetinari to screw him by pushing his cock between his thighs. It was the closest they had come to actual fucking. Sam had liked it. A lot.

 _‘Oh that,’_ he thought. _’Yes, that’s-‘_

Vimes was slightly embarrassed about the high pitched keening sound that escaped his throat as Havelock’s tongue brushed over his entrance. Sam had barely time to gasp before he did it again.

_‘What the fuck?’_

At some point the finger, slick with something he couldn’t identify, returned and pushed inside while that clever tongue still worked his sensitive skin. It felt a whole lot better this time, especially when it started to move.

There was a bit of a stretch and feeling of tightness when a second finger joined, but by that point Sam’s hand had snaked between his stomach and the mattress, giving his cock something harder to thrust into than a pillow. Havelock was kissing his way up his spine, just using his fingers to drive Sam crazy. He was close, so close.

“Not yet.” Vetinari’s other hand snaked between Sam’s body and the mattress, forcing him to stop humping his own fist.

“Fuck you.”

“May I?” Havelock stopped moving, just holding his fingers inside, making Vimes squirm, trying to fuck himself, but it wasn’t enough.

“Bastard.”

“Oh, you like this?” The fingers slowly resumed, but it only left him frustrated.

_‘Why does this feel so good?’_

“I hate you!” Maybe that would have been more convincing if his whole body hadn't been begging for more. More sounded so good. But he wasn't going to give in that easily.

“Perhaps if you ask nicely,” Sam panted, hands fisted in the sheets.

He could feel Havelock’s hot breath puffing against his back. His voice low and thick with lust. “May I _please_ fuck you?”

“…Yes.”

“Turn around.”

Sam’s body obeyed on its own. Without the fingers, Sam felt open, needy, his cock was hard as rock, smearing pre-cum over his stomach.

 _‘Damn, now we’ll have to look at each other. - To hell with it._ ’

“Come on!” Sam spread his legs wider.

Havelock mouthed something that looked suspiciously like a curse as he leaned forward, rubbing the tip of his cock against Sam’s entrance. Vetinari was big, much bigger than a few fingers. Vimes hissed through gritted teeth. His whole body was shaking, even he wasn’t sure whether it was excitement or fear. Their eyes locked.

 _‘Damn, what the blazes is this?’_ That _“something”_ between him and Vetinari was staring Sam in the face, and it looked hungry.

“What?” Vimes growled, determined to push it away, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Just breathe,” Vetinari panted as he slowly pushed forward again. Sam tried to relax but seeing Havelock Vetinari above him biting his lower lip and barely holding on to his precious control wasn’t exactly helping. He watched the muscles flex in the slim body. A few strands of his usually controlled hair were stuck to his forehead. He looked hot, sexy - not two words Vimes would normally associate with the Patrician. The other Havelock, yes, but not this one here who had taken his place, and Sam wasn’t sure what that would mean for them. Where did you fall after you had already fallen off the wagon?

“Damn!” Sam was sure every vein on his neck stood out as he tried to keep still as Havelock finally slipped inside.

“You’re _fucking_ tight,” Vetinari groaned.

He had never heard the man cuss before. It was filthy and arousing. He wondered whether he could get him to do it again.

“Move already,” Sam gasped, his hands almost ripping the sheets.

“As you wish.” Instead of the hard thrust he had expected, Vetinari only moved his hips inch by agonising inch which was probably a wise decision but quickly getting frustrating. Sam’s cock throbbed when Havelock changed the angle.

Vimes’ head snapped back, “Fuck!”

“Good?”

_‘Smug bastard!’_

“Touch yourself,” Vetinari whispered, gripping the back of Sam’s thighs, allowing him to thrust harder. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room. Every time Havelock slammed into him, Sam’s cock rocked into his hand. He wanted to drag this out, wanted to stay right on the edge, preserve this moment like an insect trapped in tree sap because this was goodbye, and an apology, and a late confession of regret over what might have been had he chosen differently.

In the end, it was Havelock who forced him to finally let go. “Come.”

Sam closed his eyes and arched off the bed as hot cum splashed against his skin, his mind blissfully empty for a few seconds.

When he opened his eyes, Vetinari was staring at him, mouth slack. His movement became erratic, desperate. Sam felt the pulsing of his cock inside of him as he came, which was weird and made him want to do it all over again. Two more hard thrusts followed before he fell forward with a groan. Their ragged breathing the only sound in the dark until they shifted and lay next to each other on the narrow bed.

Vimes dared to turn his head. Vetinari’s eyes were closed, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from kissing, beckoning him to lean forward and-

 _‘I think we made it worse,’_ Sam thought before his tired body conspired against him and his eyes fluttered shut.

*~*

The candle was still burning when Vetinari opened his eyes. Sunrise was still a long way off and there was a warm body spooned behind his back, engulfing him in more heat than he was accustomed to.

‘ _He stayed.’_

He carefully turned around and found himself nose to nose with the sleeping man who had turned into an almighty distraction. Havelock sighed. He usually maintained a careful detachment from the world around him, but right here and now in this surreal moment he permitted a little emotional self-reflection.

‘ _It feels so good just lying here next to you,_ ’ he thought, and immediately reminded himself, ‘ _Just one night. Just one, don’t get any ideas.’_

A true tyrant would have gone along with Vimes’ suggestion and just killed him despite all the years of careful grooming from a drunk to the second most powerful man in the city. He had managed it once, he could do it again. Find another noble pawn and be done with it.

Only Vimes wasn't a pawn or an aristocrat, not really, and it just so happened Havelock wasn't really a tyrant. They were those things, but only on paper and when it gave them leverage but most of their actions and moral code contradicted the characteristics usually associated with their titles.

‘ _You would hate me saying this, but we're alike, you and I. I've never met anyone quite like you and probably never will again,’_ Havelock thought.

The Patrician prided himself on his self-control but even he had limits and Vimes was pushing all of them. In the past few days, he had thought he was going to break, especially when the memories became more and more persistent. It wasn't just images and conversations, but also scents, touch and feelings. He remembered it all. He saw glimpses of what could be but in this world never would, because Vimes had made a choice and he had chosen his family over his lover.

_‘And because you are who you are, you feel guilty about it. Which is why we are in this bed now, trying to fulfil a dead man’s wish, or what you think his wish is in order to save my life. And you have absolutely no idea how I feel about you.’_

The cruel part was he could never tell him either. There was no way because although there had undoubtedly been something between them, Sam had chosen to walk away and Havelock had to respect that. In this world, Sam Vimes didn't have feelings for him other than the urge to protect him because he too knew the city needed them both. If this worked, everything would go back to normal.

_‘Then, why does my chest hurt when I think about it in those terms? Back to normal is a good thing.’_

He sighed, impatient with his own weakness. All of this was highly inconvenient. He squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe not looking at Sam would make it easier to push these intruding emotions away. Maybe they would have to try and change things around so they could avoid each other for a bit after all. However, people would get suspicious, sense a rift in their dynamic which kept the city safe.

‘ _Why can't I just stop-’_

His eyes snapped open when he felt Sam’s lips on his, a warm palm cupping his cheek. Without a second thought he allowed Sam to deepen the kiss. Covers were pushed aside. He gasped into Sam’s mouth when the man’s hand wrapped around his cock.

“What are you-” The question was swallowed by another kiss.

“Please,” Sam whispered against his lips.

For a second Vetinari thought he might have imagined it because he could barely hear anything above the roar of the blood racing through his body. He nodded anyway in case it had been real. Although he wasn't entirely sure what he was agreeing to until Sam straddled him.

It felt as if he had fallen through space and time, and he was suddenly in the alternative reality where Vimes was pursuing him. Nothing mattered here except them. There were no far reaching consequences and no tomorrow with responsibilities for a million lives.

‘ _Is this a dream?’_ he wondered when Sam sunk back down on his cock, still slick from before.

He looked up at him. Sam’s eyes were closed, mouth shaped around a silent moan, hands braced against the wall behind the headboard as he started to move his hips.

They tried to make it last, balancing on the edge for as long as possible. Neither of them seemed to want for it to end. Eventually, Sam came with a hoarse shout, his body clenching around Havelock’s cock, tipping him over the edge as well.

‘ _How am I ever going to not want this?’_

*~*

‘ _What the bloody hell am I doing?’_ Sam thought as he fought to catch his breath.

The first time they could blame on the magic. It had been a farewell, an attempt at soothing his guilty conscience. But this? He looked down. Vetinari’s eyes were closed. His long fingers still wrapped around Sam’s hips where they had clenched so tightly around him when Havelock had come, he'd have bruises come morning. And Sam already hated that he'd like them.

‘ _Bloody damn, this wasn't just falling off the wagon. This was jumping off it into an abyss.’_ This night was supposed to fix things not make them worse. Havelock’s eyes opened when Sam shifted off him.

‘ _What now?’_

*~*

“Please don't take this the wrong way, but the second time was just to make sure it would work, am I correct?”

Something flickered across Sam’s face. “Yes?”

“Was that a question?”

“No? - No. I mean. Yes, just making sure.”

’ _You wanted to sleep with me again,’_ Havelock thought, careful not to let his expression betray him. ’ _What does this mean, Sam?’_

“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you had stayed?” Vetinari asked out loud.

Silence stretched between them until Sam whispered, “Sometimes. Why do you want to know?”

The statement was greeted with more silence, only this one was so much heavier. It was the kind of silence that held its breath in anticipation of the storm.

Vimes sat up. “I don’t know. That’s the truth. I don't know if he and I…we weren’t together long enough to find out.”

The sheets rustled. Vetinari swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared at the moon shining through the window.

“Havelock?” Hearing Sam use his name hurt like a knife in the gut. Maybe because he knew it would not happen again as soon as they walked out of that door. Vetinari hung his head. He didn’t dare turn around. ’ _Should I tell him? - No, I can’t.’_

“Damn! Please tell me he didn’t. He didn’t! We were only together for a few days. Come on, please, don’t tell me he-“

“No.”

It wasn’t a lie, just an omission of details that would only worry Sam unduly. What good would it do to tell him the whole truth?

_‘He didn’t love you - yet. But he was falling for you. He knew you had to leave soon or he wouldn’t be able to let you go. He tried not to, but he regretted it in the end. That very last moment, he wished you were back in this house. In this bed._

No, Sam didn’t need to know this. It was his burden. He had so many, what difference did one more make? If he told him, this night would lose all meaning, and where would that leave them?

Behind him Sam sighed. “I…there was a moment just before we made the decision to go when I told him I wasn’t sure I could kill him.”

Havelock turned his head a fraction. “I know. That’s why I suspected it was your remorse over your actions which caused all this. I’m well aware how much you detest the idea of being an evil man, a cold-blooded murderer - you’re not - but I understand how your mind works, commander.”

“Only, it wasn’t because I was afraid of being a murderer.” He heard Sam’s heavy breathing behind his back. “I…I wasn’t sure I could kill my lover.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Havelock whispered, afraid if he spoke any louder his voice would betray his emotions.

There was a long pause before Sam replied, “I was lying. Yesterday, I was lying when I said, it was nothing. He was nothing. I don’t think it was- It wasn’t…but it wasn’t nothing either. I needed you to know that.”

Vetinari closed his eyes. Hope was cruel. Hope, it wasn’t just his heart that was aching. That second time tonight hadn’t been to make sure their plan would work. It had happened because Sam had wanted it to happen.

 _‘Do you want this, Sam?’_ He wondered.

He wanted to turn around and kiss him. He wanted to tell him the truth, all of it. A treasonous part of him wished he could take Sam to that other reality so they could be together, make the city work again and live happily ever after. Selfish, selfish thoughts. He had gotten one night which was already more than he had ever thought possible. And it would have to be enough. Sam had already made his choice, and it hadn’t been him. The city had to come first. That was how it had to be. So instead, he simply nodded in acknowledgment.

“Thank you, your honesty is appreciated.”

A few minutes passed in silence with only their breathing audible in the darkness. After a while, Havelock asked, “Do you think it worked?”

There was a brief pause followed by a dip in the mattress as Sam got out of bed. The sound of rustling cloth told him Vimes was getting dressed.

“Hard to tell. I still feel guilty, but I think it’s mostly knowing I just cheated on my wife rather than anything else.”

 _‘Closure,’_ Havelock thought, _‘at least for one of us.’_

He turned around and said, “We were trying to save our lives which, I think the majority of the city would agree, is in Ankh-Morpork’s best interest. What we did might have been morally questionable but it wasn’t wrong if you look at the big picture.”

Sam scoffed, “Yes, let’s not lose sight of the greater good here. Although, I doubt Sybil would see it that way if she found out and I wouldn’t blame her.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, she might surprise you. But let’s not push our luck. What we did was ultimately for the future of the city.”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night.”

Havelock got up when he heard Sam hiss. “Are you alright?”

Vimes grimaced. “Yes, I’m fine, or I will be. Just… sore in unfamiliar places.”

“I’m sorry.” He meant it, but Sam shook his head.

“No, don’t worry. Like you said, we did what we had to do.”

Something about that statement was off. Probably because it felt like another lie. Maybe they had prevented magically amplified guilt to kill them, but it seemed their real problems had only just started. Nothing good would come of it, but right now all he could do was watch Sam Vimes leave and hope they would both wake up alive in the morning - a bit bent, but not broken.

*~*

As soon as the door closed behind his back, Sam took a ragged breath. Walking out of that room had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done in his life.

He walked along the corridor and down the steps, biting his lower lip.

‘ _Damn. Damn. Damn.’_

He refused to turn around when he left the house. He refused to imagine Havelock watching him leave from the window. Vimes had lied. He'd lied to make sure they could continue the status quo where they played their roles as Patrician and commander, protecting the city. The way it should be, shouldn't it? Pretend it was all just to fix a magic mishap and move on.

He wasn't sure what he'd have done had Vetinari told him the other Havelock had loved him, but he was certain he wouldn't have been able to leave. And then there had been that moment when he had confessed his feelings, and for just a second, it had seemed as if Vetinari would turn around and tell him it wasn’t just him. But he hadn’t. The moment came and went.

’ _At least now I know where you land when you jump off the wagon, and it bloody hurts.’_

None of this was supposed to happen. He had killed for it not to happen. But it had anyway, and Sam would have to learn to live with it, never knowing what could have been if he'd stayed.

 

**The End**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Another thousand thank yous to Donna Immaculata for essentially beta reading this for me.  
> Also a big thank you and smooch for my good friend [Ava (Militem)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ava_militem/pseuds/Militem) for beta reading and encouraging me. She is so talented and I'm sure I don't deserve her. x


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